Anaxantis sat at the great table in the apartment of the lord governor. Before him lay eight books, all open, and a map of the northern border and the Renuvian Plains.
“If they won't agree to occupy the passes, then maybe the Mirax can serve as a line of defense. Is the river deep enough? Are there bridges? And where? This map doesn't show any, but there must be bridges somewhere. If we destroy them and post patrols at the Urtdam-Dek Pass at the coast and the Queneq Pass farther down the mountain range, we will be warned in time when the Mukthars come, and we can prevent them crossing the river. Why is Lorseth so far from the border? To be able to intercept them in time we should be garrisoned somewhere between Dermolhea and Ghiasht. Ah, but of course... Lorseth was built more than three centuries ago, not with the defense of the border in mind, but to keep Amiratha in check. Then there are the forests, four of them. Could they provide meat for advance guards? Are they inhabited?”
Meanwhile Ehandar, accompanied by his guards, went to the smithy of the barracks. The blacksmith and his five apprentices were deeply impressed by the high visitor.
“You,” he snapped at the apprentices. “Out. Now.”
The helpers of the blacksmith ran outside.
“Do you have chains, shackles and locks, blacksmith?” Ehandar asked without preamble.
“Yes, my lord, of course,” the blacksmith answered, unsettled.
“Good. You will come tomorrow to the castle, shortly before noon. Bring about ten pair of shackles and collars complete with locks, chains of different length, and the necessary tools to fasten the chains to a stone wall. Can you do this by yourself?”
“Certainly, my lord.”
“I want this done discreetly, blacksmith, so cover up the cart and if anybody, and that includes your apprentices, asks you what your business is in the castle, you answer that there are repairs to be made. Understood?”
“Yes, my lord,” a now trembling blacksmith replied.
“If ever I hear your tongue was loose, I will have it cut out,” he warned with an evil grin. “Make no mistake, blacksmith, I don't make idle threats. If I am satisfied, there might be a few coins in it for you.”
Without another word, in the certainty that he would be obeyed to the letter, Ehandar turned on his heels and left the smithy.
When he returned to their room he found Anaxantis on the balcony, looking at the pounding sea.
“You're going to catch a cold,” Ehandar greeted him. “You should wear a mantle.”
“I'm not that delicate,” Anaxantis replied, smiling, “but thank you for your concern. The view is beautiful here, isn't it?”
“Yes, it is rather.”
The sun had begun to set. The eerie, mournful yodeling call of gulls could be heard above the sound of the waves, breaking against the rock upon which Lorseth Castle stood.
“Look, there you can see the mountains and the aqueduct that brings us fresh spring water.”
Anaxantis paused, and looked at his brother.
“Ehandar, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. It's just that I would like to feel useful for once. Thank you for agreeing to my plan to explore the Renuvian Plains.”
“If I throw him over the balcony, here and now, who is to say that he didn't fall by himself? Even if he cries out he wouldn't be heard above the rumbling of the sea. In fact, would his body ever be found? He will just have disappeared,” Ehandar speculated.
He felt his heart beat faster.
“Don't worry about it. There's enough to do for both of us, little brother,” he said, managing a thin smile.
“If you think about it, it's perfectly true,” Ehandar thought. “In fact, by removing Anaxantis, I do part of the work of the next king. One less worry for him and more time and energy to concentrate on me. Maybe we should work together and make Amiratha into a safe haven for both of us. That'll be the day. Two princes of our family working together? It would be contrary to the ways of the House of Tanahkos. Can I afford to trust him? What if he turns against me? No, I'll keep to my original plan.”
“Yes, I reckon there is more than work enough,” Anaxantis smiled. “I'll keep you informed of everything I plan to do. I know you don't hold me in high esteem, but I hope we can somehow learn to work together.”
“He may be stubborn, but I'll make him see that I bear him no ill will,” Anaxantis thought with hopeful resolve. “I'll win him over yet.”
Suddenly, he broke into a coughing fit and had to keep himself upright by leaning on the balustrade.
“Go inside, Anaxantis, I told you it was too windy out here for you.”
“I think I will.”
“Was that concern I heard in his voice?” Anaxantis thought while he went inside. He smiled. “Yes, I'll definitely win him over yet.”
A carrier pigeon landed on a window ledge of a tower of Ormidon Castle. A caretaker gently removed a small silver capsule strapped to its breast and had it delivered to the royal apartments.
When the servant had handed over the capsule he waited in the antechamber in case there was an answer.
Tenaxos read the message.
“Tenax, Ehandar has ordered chains for the tower of the Lord Governors. It looks as if his move against Anaxantis is imminent. I fear his life is in danger. Dem.”
“Already?” Tenaxos thought, amazed. “That is fast. But your assessment of the situation is not correct, old friend. If Ehandar wanted to get rid of Anaxantis why would he need restraints? He wants him out of the way, that's for sure, but he balks at killing him outright. For the moment, at least.”
He went to a cabinet and retrieved a small piece of parchment. “Don't interfere,” he wrote and put it in the small silver container.
Around eleven in the morning Iftang Busskal, general of the cavalry, reported to the tower of Lorseth Castle. He was a strong man in his early thirties and a noble of an ancient Ximerionian house. A sentry brought him without delay to the war room, where he was greeted by Anaxantis.
“Ah, general, thank you for coming. I hope I am not keeping you from important work?”
“No, my lord. Besides there is no more important business than answering the call of the Lord Governor.”
“Better be careful,” he thought. “He seems polite, too polite even, but he is a Tanahkos. By the Gods, he is young.”
Anaxantis explained his plan to scout the Renuvian Plains.
“I want your opinion on a few things. According to general Tarngord the undertaking is not without risk because of roaming robber gangs. How big would our party have to be, you think?”
“Hard to say, my lord. At least thirty I would think. Fifty maybe. Can I ask why you want to inspect the Plains?”
“I am trying to find out if and how we can stop the Mukthars before they reach our frontier. I wondered if we could prevent them crossing the Mirax.”
“Well, that's sensible. More sensible than just waiting till they stand at our border, anyway.”
“Then we should follow the banks of the river from the sea to the desert. That is quite a distance,” Busskal put forward.
“More importantly, are you up to it? If we have to stop every few hours to let you rest, it will take forever and a day.”
“I know,” Anaxantis replied. “Do we have anything better to do?”
“I suppose not. Everything is better than rotting away in the barracks,” the general thought.
“I for one would be all too glad for a chance to get out of here. If you don't mind, my lord, I would like to come myself. My second in command is more than capable enough to replace me here,” the general said eagerly.
“Why, thank you general,” Anaxantis answered, slightly surprised, “it will be a pleasure to have you with me. I'm sure there are many things I can learn from you.”
It was agreed upon that the scouting party would leave in two days.
Anaxantis not only explained his plans in all details, he also asked the general many questions about the recruitment and the training of the cavalr
y.
“This is without a doubt the strangest one of the whole royal family. He has a good brain. It's really a shame that his body can't keep pace. And he is probably too gentle to maintain himself in that family of cutthroats. He's likable enough, though.”
After his meeting with general Busskal, Anaxantis decided to go out for a ride. He wanted to explore the surroundings of Lorseth, and he thought the exercise would do him good. After two hours the familiar dizziness returned, and he had to be helped off his horse by the captain of his guard.
“Damn it,” he cursed silently, “me and my big plans. How am I going to lead an expedition into the Plains? I can't remain seated on a horse for more than a few hours. And yet I am going to do this. So what if it takes a few weeks longer? Maybe I'll get better with practice. Maybe the dizzy spells will become fewer and shorter or disappear altogether.”
When he returned dusk was already falling. The first thing he saw when he entered their room were chains hanging through iron rings in the wall next to the fireplace.
“What the fuck?” he thought. “Is he planning to keep prisoners here? In our room? I wish he would consult me before making such changes.”
He took off his mantle and his tunic and hung them on pegs in the wardrobe. Shortly thereafter Ehandar entered the room.
“I see you noticed the little modifications I made to the place,” he said.
“Yes,” Anaxantis replied, “would you be so kind as to tell me what you think you were doing?”
“It will become clear to you soon enough,” Ehandar replied while taking of his mantle and dropping it over a chair. “Have you seen your room?”
He opened the door of the little room where he had forced Anaxantis to sleep. Another chain hung fastened with an iron ring to the wall. Anaxantis, who had followed him, was astounded. Suddenly Ehandar grabbed him by an arm and forced it behind his back. Anaxantis let out a cry of pain. With his other hand he got hold of the chain, at the end of which was attached a steel collar. Anaxantis tried to struggle, but the only effect was that it made his arm hurt excruciatingly.
“Be still, you little runt,” Ehandar growled.
He opened the collar and put it around Anaxantis's neck. After he had fastened the padlock, he let go of his brother.
“What are you doing?” Anaxantis asked in a panicking voice, while tugging futilely at the collar. “Remove that thing immediately.”
Ehandar backhanded him and Anaxantis tumbled on the bed. His lip was bleeding and a coppery taste invaded his mouth. With difficulty he managed to retain his tears and maintain a shred of composure.
“You will remain here for the night,” Ehandar said. “If you're good, I will chain you in the big room during the day. The chain there is long enough to reach the bathroom. If you give me any trouble you will remain here. You will not leave this place anymore.”
Anaxantis was too stunned to react immediately.
“Let's see, what have we here?” Ehandar resumed as he began rummaging through Anaxantis possessions.
As he opened a chest, a sweet odor pervaded the little room.
“Ah,” he said with contempt, “Emelasuntha's famous sweets. That's food for little girls. And sacks of herbs and pills.”
“Leave that alone,” Anaxantis cried. “Those are my medicines. I need them.”
As if he hadn't heard his brother, Ehandar took the chest and dragged it to the balcony where he threw it over the balustrade into the sea.
“What have you done with my medicines?” Anaxantis asked anxiously when he returned.
“I threw them in the sea. Stop blubbering or you'll go after them.”
“You can't do this. Someone will miss me. Demrac will want to know where I am.” Anaxantis yelled in a shrill voice, betraying a mixture of fear and rage.
“You are sick and need to rest. I will tend to you myself, out of brotherly love of course. Demrac will do nothing, believe me. You can yell all you want. The walls are thick, and the roaring of the sea will drown out whatever sound manages to get through. You would be well advised to be civil towards me. I am the only one who can give you food and water.”
“Damn it, Ehandar, I am your brother,” Anaxantis shouted through his tears. “I am a prince of Ximerion.”
“Sleep well then, prince of Ximerion,” Ehandar replied mockingly and closed the door behind him.
Utter darkness fell upon the little room.
Chapter 3:
The Prisoner of Lorseth Castle
It was two o'clock in the morning and all was quiet in Ormidon Castle. A detachment of the Royal Guard knocked at the door of the private apartments of the queen. After several minutes of insistently banging on the door it was opened. The soldiers immediately entered.
“What is the meaning of this?” a sleepy, thickset woman asked indignantly.
“Wake the queen, woman,” the captain of the Guard ordered.
“But it is the middle of the night.”
“Wake the queen. Now. Or we will do it ourselves.”
“All right, all right,” the woman mumbled and disappeared behind a door.
Minutes later queen Emelasuntha came into the reception room. Though in her late thirties, she was an impressive and striking figure.
“Captain,” she said with an icy voice, “I presume you have a very good reason to wake us at this late hour?”
“The best, your highness. A direct order from the high king. You are to depart from here within the hour. You can pack a few necessities for the journey. The rest of your possessions will be brought to you at a later date.”
“Where am I to be taken?”
“I don't know, madam,” the unhappy captain said. “My orders are to deliver you at the eastern gate where a company of Black Shields will take over the responsibility for your safety.”
“Can I bring my women?”
“I don't think so, madam. Personnel will be at your disposal where you are going to.”
“It seems I have underestimated Tenax,” Emelasuntha thought. “Damn it. He is placing me under arrest, no less. I will lose all my contacts and all my sources of information, unless the Sisterhood can find out where they are taking me. And he is using the Black Shields. They won't hesitate a moment to kill me if I resist.”
“Very well, captain, I won't make your task more difficult than necessary.” She turned to the stocky woman. “Sobrathi, it seems I will not be needing your services for a while. When I return I will send for you. For now, you can go.”
“Yes, madam,” Sobrathi replied softly and left the reception room.
Moments later she reappeared, clad in a thick woolen mantle. Emelasuntha went to a cabinet and took a few gold coins out of a purse.
“This is to tide you over until my return,” she smiled as she pressed the coins and a ring she had covertly removed from her finger in Sobrathi's hand.
“Thank you, madam, that is very generous,” Sobrathi mumbled and shuffled out of the queen's apartments.
Sobrathi made her way, at a quick an energetic pace, through the city of Ormidon. The streets became narrower and more winding, indicating that she had reached the oldest districts. She entered a packed tavern and pushed her way through the throng of guests to the back of the inn, where she opened a small door that gave access to an inner courtyard. There she climbed the rickety stairs and entered a door. Another staircase brought her to a landing. A door opened and a young woman, with short black hair of about eighteen years, came looking who had arrived.
“Sobrathi, come in,” she said.
“Quick, Martillia, I have disconcerting news.”
“Yeah, so have we,” Martillia replied.
Inside were two other women.
“Is that all?” Sobrathi inquired.
“The Sisterhood is thinly spread at the moment,” Martillia shrugged. “We had to dispatch a lot of our sisters to the southern border to prepare for the arrival of the king. And, of course, a few of us went to the Northern Marches.”
&n
bsp; “From where worrying news has reached us,” an older woman intervened. “It's lucky that you're here, because we need to ask Emelasuntha's advice.”
“Emelasuntha is under arrest, Brenacia” Sobrathi said. “She is to be deported within half an hour or so. Destination unknown. I came as fast I could.”
“What? Arrested? The queen?” Brenacia gasped.
“That worm Tenaxos,” Martillia hissed with contempt. “Typical scoundrelly behavior of a man.”
She spat on the floor.
“Sisters,” the fourth woman said, “let's remain calm. We must find out where they are taking Emelasuntha.”
“The Black Shields are to escort her, priestess” Sobrathi said. “They will leave by the eastern gate.”
The priestess looked at Martillia.
“I'm on it,” the young woman said, while girding her sword on.
The Invisible Chains - Part 1: Bonds of Hate (Dark Tales of Randamor the Recluse) Page 3